It has almost been a year of walking on eggshells and gently trying to dance around a subject because I didn’t have the strength within me to enter in. The painful result of trying to go there and watching my words fall flat between each and every time. I get tired of saying them when saying them doesn’t seem to matter. So, I hold my breath like I hold my tongue and I haven’t been able to let it out.
It’s the moment when my side aches because it longs for fresh air. I can’t take it any longer. I gasp, sucking in the fresh air.
I breathe. Inhale, exhale and with each consecutive breath the sense of deprivation withers from within.
The words don’t matter anymore. Do I still think they are worthy to be said? Yes. Realistically, however, I know it really doesn’t make a difference now. Lines have been drawn and crossed. And frankly, I still don’t think they would be heard so off into the wind they go.